


Twenty Dollar Make Out

by just_a_state_of_mind



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, House Party, M/M, Making Out, Texts From Last Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-23 05:40:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2536211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_a_state_of_mind/pseuds/just_a_state_of_mind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean notices Marco across the room at a house party. Marco notices Jean noticing him. Connie tells Marco he has no chance on Earth. Marco proves him wrong. </p><p>'This guy needs to come out; I can feel him sucking my dick from across the room.'</p><p>EDIT: Now with Jean's POV</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the tfln: 'This guy needs to come out; I can feel him sucking my dick from across the room.'
> 
> Also inspired by textsfromjeanmarco.tumblr.com which is a great blog so check them out if you haven't already.

"Marco! You came!"

Connie grinned widely at his freckled friend who had taken up residence on one end of his sofa. Marco returned the greeting with a smaller, but no less genuine smile of his own.

"I did, yes," he called over the music. It was some pop trash that Connie was sure Eren had chosen. Next time he was putting Sasha in charge of the mix tape, at least the woman had some taste.

"I'm honoured you found time to tear yourself away from your text books," Connie said, only half seriously.

Marco laughed, running a bashful hand through his hair.

"Ah well, even Russian literature gets a bit dull after a while."

"You don't say?" Connie chuckled and shook his head. "Well I'm glad you came. Uh sorry I have to go save Sasha."

He waved his beer bottle at Marco by way of salute before turning to go ward off the unwanted advances that his friend needed rescuing from. Marco laughed quietly to himself as he watched Connie pull himself up, trying to make the most of his five foot five inches.

He sipped his drink, something blue and sweet and, he suspected, highly alcoholic. It had been pushed into his hand by an enthusiastic Armin as he'd arrived and it didn't actually taste as dreadful as it looked, so he'd decided to stick with it. It tasted of watermelon which was... interesting would perhaps be the best word to describe it.

He waved off several offers to dance, content just to sit on his corner of the sofa and watch the ever more drunken escapades of his friends and classmates. And there was one guy across the room who particularly caught his attention. Marco had seen him around campus before, the kind who wore faded band t-shirts and ratty Converse completely unironically. He had never spoken to him despite them being in the same literature class but somewhere during the first two weeks of term, Marco had mentally labeled him as Cute Two-Tone Guy. They were now at the end of week twelve, and he hadn't gotten any less cute.

He had particularly caught Marco's attention that night because, despite having spent the last three-quarters of an hour hitting on a pretty dark haired girl, he hadn't stopped staring at Marco for more than five minutes at a time. If that wasn't a clear case of 'wedged so firmly in the closet that you haven't realised you actually are in a closet' then Marco just didn't know what to think anymore. He'd probably have to go and completely reevaluate his life.

The arrival of drunk!Connie next to him on the now slightly sticky couch startled him from his thoughts. A skinny arm was slung over his shoulder and Connie's face was suddenly very close to his own.

"You enjoying yourself, Marco?" he shouted. Marco could smell beer and something stronger on the other guy's breath. Tequila? Mikasa must have got the shot glasses out. He carefully shrugged out from under Connie's arm.

"Who's the guy in the hat?" he asked, jerking his head towards Cute Two-Tone Guy. Connie squinted across the room for a second before coming to a conclusion.

"Jean Kirschtein. He's roommates with Eren. They hate each other's guts. Why?"

"Oh nothing," Marco shrugged. "Only, he needs to come out; I can feel him sucking my dick from across the room."

Okay so maybe Marco was a bit more drunk than he thought. Connie just laughed.

"Nah man, that guy is so far in the closet he's having tea parties with Aslan and Mr Tumnus," he gave Marco a firm pat on the back. "You'd have better luck getting Sasha to give up her last pop-tart than coaxing him out any time soon."

"That sounds like a challenge, Mr Springer," Marco grinned, setting his plastic cup down on the coffee table.

Connie just shrugged.

"You won't be able to do it," he said.

"Bet you twenty I can get him to make out with me before midnight," Marco retorted.

"You're on," Connie replied, shaking the outstretched hand. "But you'd better get on with it, you've only got an hour left."

"Loadsa time," Marco smiled, getting up from the sofa and stepping over the coffee table.

Connie watched him cross the room to where Jean was stood talking to a girl he didn't recognise. Sasha slumped down next to him in Marco's vacated spot.

"He looks like a man on a mission," she slurred, snuggling into his arm.

"I bet him he couldn't get Kirschtein to make out with him before midnight," Connie explained, wrapping his arm round Sasha's waist.

"Ha! He'd have better luck convincing Levi to use a public bathroom," she snorted.

"That's what I said. Sorta."

They watched the two men, both of them knowing how charming Marco could be. Yes, on the surface the guy was sunshine and kittens, but deeper down there was a devious streak of steely determination. As they watched Kirschtein start to laugh and smile at Marco, Connie started to feel slightly worried for his wallet.

"Oh my god, is Kirschtein actually flirting with him?" Sasha asked in a hushed tone.

"Nah, that's just Marco. He makes everyone laugh - oh no, no that's definitely flirting."

Marco had reached out and had tugged gently on the bottom of Jean's t-shirt. Instead of brushing his advances off like Connie would have expected, Kirschtein had actually taken hold of Marco's wrist and had tugged him forward a couple of steps.

"I can't watch," Connie groaned, burying his face into Sasha's hair. He was going to be kissing goodbye to a twenty tonight, he was sure of it now.

"Well that took about twenty minutes," Sasha spoke up after a while, amusement clear in her voice.

Connie looked up to be greeted with the sight of Marco and Jean in a very heated embrace. Marco's hands were fisted up in the dark material of Kirschtein's shirt and Jean had wrapped his own arms around Marco's neck, effectively anchoring their faces together. The girl who Jean's attentions had been focused on previously was looking distinctly put out at the rather drastic turn of events. Connie didn't blame her.

"That boy could probably take over the world just by asking nicely," Sasha mused. Connie nodded in agreement.

The display in front of them was swiftly moving into soft porn territory as Marco's hands slid further up the back of Kirschtein's shirt. If someone doesn't speak up soon, Connie thought, we are all going to be scarred for life.

"Get a room, Kirschtein!" someone yelled. Probably Eren. Thank god.

The two broke apart, Jean going bright red and looking as if he wanted the ground to swallow him up. Marco said something and he nodded, allowing Marco to take his hand and guide him through the crowded sitting room. He scowled at the cat-calls and the wolf-whistling, but still let Marco lead on.

As they passed Connie and Sasha, Marco threw a wink at the duo. Connie glared. Sasha gave them a thumbs-up.

"He doesn't get extra points," he muttered to her after they'd gone. Sasha just laughed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jean's POV of the previous chapter. FoodForTitans asked for it, so here you go :)

Jean was pretty much done with this party. He mentally cursed Armin for convincing him to come, even though he'd already made plans with his Playstation and Assassin's Creed. He looked down at the contents of his flimsy cup. It was green and tasted of apples. He hoped it wouldn't kill him.

If the booze didn't kill him, this playlist just might. It was a selection of the finest pop crap to have ever been made and it was probably one of Eren's tapes because Oops I Did It Again had just started for the third time.

"Do you think anyone would mind if I went and punched the stereo?" he muttered to the dark haired girl next to him.

"Go ahead," she laughed. "And put something decent on while you're over there."

"I think Connie might kill me if I tried something like that," Jean chuckled. “Or Eren.”

"Yeah, probably. I'm Mina by the way."

"Jean," Jean replied and suddenly the evening wasn't looking so wasted after all.

They talked idly for a while starting with the generic stuff about courses and classmates, eventually getting to music and film tastes and then onto communism and its fatal flaws. She was an interesting, opinionated person, and Jean decided he liked her, but if he was being honest, he was having a hard time concentrating.

This was mainly to do with tall, dark and freckled who had been sat on Connie's sofa for the last hour and a half. He was sure he'd seen him before, around campus or something, maybe in one of his classes? It didn't help that Jean was one of the least socially adept people on the planet and so didn't know all that many people outside his own circle of friends.

What was annoying was that he couldn't stop staring at him. Every time he turned his attention to Mina, he found his eyes straying back to the guy on the couch. Sat there in his stupid red plaid shirt with his dumb freckles and annoying messy hair. He was just sat there watching the room, sipping at whatever random drinks were passed to him.  
Forty-five minutes in and Freckles was joined by Connie. A very drunk Connie. Jean felt himself flush as freckles nodded in his direction, followed by a hard stare from Connie. Oh god were they talking about him? He turned his attention back to Mina who was looking at him expectantly. Shit.

"Sorry, I kind of drifted a bit there," he said bashfully. She laughed, seemingly not put off by his distracted state.

"I said, do you want to get out of here?" she said, head tilted to the side invitingly.

"What like somewhere quieter?"

She giggled, reaching out and running her hand down his arm.

“Yeah, somewhere a bit more... _private_.”

It took Jean a second to cotton on to what she meant.

“Oh. _Oh_.” he could feel the blush rising up his cheek. “Yeah sure, okay where were you think-”

His stammering was cut off as a warm hand landed on his shoulder and a bright “Hey there” came from behind him. He turned and found himself looking up into the dark eyes of Freckles and hoo boy, that was a lot of freckles. They were dusted across his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose like cocoa powder or stars or something. He had two just above his right eyebrow that had escaped the crowd. Jean must have been way drunker than he thought because he just wanted to sit down and count them all.

“Hi,” he replied, and wow okay those eyes were just really fucking hypnotic. 

“I'm Marco,” Freckles, well Marco, introduced himself. “We're in the same class for Russian literature and I saw you over here so I figured I may as well introduce myself.”

“I'm Jean,” Jean replied, smiling a him. “Nice to meet you.”

Marco grinned at him and fucking wow, this guy was all sunshine and kittens, wasn't he? Jean found himself smiling back. This guy's mood was infectious.

“So how about that Dostoevsky huh? Depressing or what?”

Jean laughed, nodding his head earnestly. He was vaguely aware of Mina still stood next to him waiting to go, but Marco just seemed to steal all his attention.

“Yeah understatement of a century,” he laughed.

“I have a theory that it's the weather over there. All that snow must make you pretty miserable. And bears.”

“Wait, you're saying that Russian literature is all about snow and bears?” Jean said, cocking his head to one side, not unlike how Mina had done earlier. He watched with interest as Marco's eyes travelled down the line of his neck, sliding back up to fix Jean with a darkened look.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” he said. Their eyes locked and if Jean were gay, he would probably have jumped this guy a good ten minutes ago. 

“Nothing to do with the unstable and volatile political landscape of the time?” Jean asked, sarcasm laced through his voice.

“Of course not,” Marco laughed. “Why would they worry about something like that?”

Okay so maybe Jean would just jump this guy anyway. But Mina. But cute guy who was clearly into him. Oh god.

“Hey I like your shirt,” Marco said, and oh my god he's tugging on my shirt, Jean's mind was racing and obviously decided that the logical thing to do would be to grab Marco's wrist and tug him closer. Mina is literally right there, Jean screamed at himself. But no, his brain was clearly interested in other things now.

“Thanks,” he stammered, actually having to tilt his head back now to look at Marco face to face. “It's Velvet Underground. As you can probably tell. Cause it says right there.” He gestured vaguely at his chest.

“Yeah, I can see,” Marco murmured, rubbing the soft material between his fingers before letting go. He made no move to pull his wrist from Jean's grip which was just as well because Jean didn't have much intention of letting go. 

He was close enough now to see those freckles in high definition, and some strange part of his brain took over and started counting. He got to about twenty when Marco pressed a finger to his cheek.

“You still there?” he asked cheerfully. “Only you've just been staring at me for a bit now.”

Jean felt himself flush.

“Sorry, your freckles are really distracting,” he admitted. “I was counting them. I dunno why.” he trailed off, ducking his head in embarrassment. Marco just laughed.

“That's cute. You're cute.”

“Fuck you, I'm manly as hell,” Jean scowled at him, now a furious red colour. Marco laughed again and if Jean had ever doubted that someone could get addicted to a certain sound, then his prejudices were pretty much being blown away tonight. He really wanted to hear more of that laugh.

“Sure you are,” Marco was saying, and when had his hands found their way to Jean's waist? He really wasn't complaining though; they were warm through his t-shirt and Jean felt himself relax into the embrace. Marco's lips were now just inches from his own and if he leant forward just so...

Their lips touched tentatively at first, Marco watching Jean's face carefully to check if he was okay with where this was going. Jean was definitely okay with this and gripped the top of Marco's arms to tug him further in, eyes sliding shut. It was a strange feeling, kissing someone taller than you. Jean was so used to leaning down that the new angle threw him slightly. It wasn't bad though. Just new. Marco could only have a few inches over him but still, it was enough.

Jean startled slightly at the touch of Marco's tongue against his bottom lip, exhaling sharply in surprise. He felt Marco start pulling away and wrapped his arms up around his neck to anchor him against him, opening his mouth eagerly to give him access. He tasted of watermelon and coke and something else. Tequila? It was sloppy and graceless and they were both drunk, but it was absolutely perfect. Marco's hands were bunched in his shirt and oh wow, now he was pulling him flush against his body. Their hips bumped and suddenly Marco's hands were sliding up his shirt, hot against his skin. Jean could feel himself getting lost in the hot slide of tongues and the softness of Marco's lips and the feel of those long fingers trailing up his spine. Mina was now completely forgotton.

“Get a room, Kirschtein!" someone yelled. Probably Eren. Fuck him. 

They pulled apart, Jean having a hard time focusing on anything else but Marco's now kiss swollen lips. His hair was ruffled from where Jean must have run his fingers through it and his eyes were glassy, pupils blown wide with lust.

“I think perhaps we should relocate,” Marco giggled (actually _giggled_ ) taking Jean's hand. Jean just nodded, not trusting himself to be able to use words properly. He threw a half-apologetic glance towards Mina but she had wandered off, clearly getting the signal that he wasn't interested any more. He knew he should feel bad but just couldn't really find it within himself. Marco tugged him along, ignoring the cat-calls and wolf-whistles. As they passed Connie and Sasha, now draped across Marco's vacated seat, Sasha grinned enthusiastically, giving them a thumbs-up.

Jean groaned, burying his face against Marco's shoulder, but then they were out the door and in Marco's car and as Marco tugged up his shirt and started mouthing his way down his stomach, Jean couldn't help but think that tonight was definitely not a bad idea at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks again for reading
> 
> also, this is Jean's shirt  
> http://www.shoprockamerica.com/showimage.axd?id=6336&w=463&h=589
> 
> kind of suggestive, hm?


End file.
